Dancing in the Dark
by Orin
Summary: "Haruka looked sensual out there, moving alone among the mass of bodies. Only sensual and Haruka did not fit. And Seiya never put them in a sentence together. Ever." Seiya encounters Haruka dancing alone and decides to play. Stuff happens. Seiya/Haruka


TITLE: Dancing in the Dark

AUTHOR:  Orin.

RATING:  R – for innuendo and naughty thoughts only though.

DISCLAIMER:  Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi, the one and only. '_You Can Still Be Free'_ belongs to Savage Garden.

SPOILERS:  I guess the end of the Sailor Stars season… Though not really.

FEEDBACK:  Yes, but please be gentle.

PAIRINGS: Seiya/Haruka… sort of. Kinda.…

WARNINGS; Seiya/Haruka. I guess that could be one. Also OCCness abound – at least to my mind, because I'm not used to writing these guys, thought I love 'em to bits. But I tried. 

SUMMARY: It's a well-known fact that Sailor Uranus and Sailor Starfighter don't get on. At all. But in a chance encounter, when Seiya watches Haruka dance, he ponders on the Outer Senshi, her hidden facades, her abandon on the dance floor, their relationship – or lack of. And what exactly she's hiding from him, and the rest of the world. Seiya/Haruka __

AUTHORS NOTES:

_First off, a warning – this is a very Seiya/Haruka orientated fic. _

_No, I'm not nuts. I liked the chemistry between these two characters on SM Stars – even if that chemistry was borderline hatred. That's beside the point; they have some sort of a 'thing'__. I loved their interaction on the series, certain scenes of them together are some of my favourite out of all Sailor Moon. (Especially the one where they met for the first time. Ouch!)___

_Now, I know Haruka has Michiru. I'm not saying that's a bad thing… But really. It is. _

_Michiru is too close to perfect for my liking. I mean, if she were an original character, created by a fan fiction author, I would probably classify her as a Mary Sue. She paints, she plays a musical instrument, she beautiful, talented, elegant… Not to mention an amazing warrior as well. But she's got no… quirks. No reality to her. _

_Usagi has the whole crybaby routine, Rei is utterly bossy at times, Haruka is stubborn to a fault, Minako is a flirt. I could go on, the point is; they all have quirks._

_But perhaps she's just undeveloped as a character._

I quite like Michiru, sometimes. It's just; I can never really understand what Haruka sees in her, or visa-versa. I really don't see chemistry between them. There's tenderness of course, and love. Definitely that. Devotion too. But where's the passion? Where's the flame of these two ladies. And they do have it; you can see it when they're in battle, when they throw witty banter back and forth between each other, but outside that?

_ I know it's just me. I'm strange that way. (Don't get me wrong; their death scene in SM Stars had me bawling with all the other fans. Because however you look at it, the event was truly touching.)_

_ I guess I'd like to see something different.  And this is just fan fiction, not Bible-citation – and far, far from canon - so don't hurt me. O__o;;  _

_Please?_

DANCING IN THE DARK 

**By Orin.**

She moved like an angel. Or a devil in disguise.

That was the first thing the popped into Seiya's mind, absurd though it was, when he spotted her tall form on the crowded dance floor. That, and that ever actually seeing this Senshi moving on a dance floor was the last thing he expected. 

For a brief instant he entertained the thought of sidling up behind her, of wrapping his arms lovingly around her waist and scaring all that familiar arrogance right out of the young woman. He had never gotten in a good scare with this particular Senshi. 

But then, Haruka Ten'ou was difficult to frighten – on a general rule. Perhaps that was why the urge to startle her was so strong within Seiya for that instant. But so was the knowledge that if he did attempt anything untoward, he would probably wake up in the gutter sometime the next day with a pounding headache and a broken nose.

Maybe.

Still, the idea had its appeal. But Seiya was no idiot, despite wherever a certain Outer Senshi said. He knew a safe vantage when he was in one. He knew an advantage when he saw one. 

The image of her expression if he moved in close to whisper in her ear was also appealing. He'd whisper something dark, something taboo, maybe melt back into the crowd again, leaving her wondering who it was that knew her name in such a place – because of course, he'd address her by her name. Perhaps he could even call her Sailor Uranus. But that would probably alert her too much. She might even stop dancing.

Or maybe he'd stay when she turned to see his face. Then he would be able to view her startled expression up close and personal. That would be something. Though again, the whole bloody nose incident that was bound to follow was a definite deterrent  

He always liked leverage though. Leverage was Seiya's friend, and it was another thing he had never gotten over this particular Senshi. If he confronted her, then he would possibly have that – or a broken nose, because he believed Haruka entirely capable of giving him one. Not in terms of strength – because she was one of the strongest Senshi of the lot - but in terms of actual wilful contribution. 

Seiya was pretty sure that she wouldn't mind inflicting a little undue pain his way. Not one bit.

After all, she had done it before.

So eventually he just settled for lurking in the shadows of the balcony floor and watching her move. Because, while interesting possibilities had been running riot in his mind, it had actually occurred to Seiya somewhere that he liked watching her.

Befuddlement was the result of that cognitive process. 

First off, because this was Haruka Ten'ou and she was someone he loved to hate. She had made his life… difficult… when facing Galaxia a few years before. They had never gotten along, because the stubborn Senshi was arrogant, insensitive, pushy, and a whole lot of other things that made a person entirely hard to stand. Not to mention extremely territorial. Over-protective too. Oh, and stubborn. She clung to her principles with all the tenacity of a starved leech, and that was saying something. 

She had very nearly bled him dry of all tolerance. Because Haruka had never tolerated him. She had never liked him, but generally people tolerated those they didn't like for the most part. It was human nature to put on a congenial face while seething within, for the benefit of '_being polite'. _

She had never done that. Not even once. Not with him.

She had tried to pummel the stuffing out of him though. More than once. He could suppose that counted for something, but he seriously doubted it. Haruka had issues with a lot of things. And Seiya found that, in general, she was aggressive toward most people she did not approve of. 

She really, really, did not approve of him. And he could see that it was entirely personal for her.

There had been times when he had wondered why.

What had happened in her life to make the tall lady so vigilant, so harsh? He had wondered. But only sometimes. 

Usagi had always been on the fore of his mind. Back then. But Usagi had her Mamoru, and he could not begrudge her that, because he had seen her face when her boyfriend hugged her close. He had felt her despair when she had thought him gone, felt her longing throughout the year when Mamoru was away, overseas. With him, Usagi was happy. Seiya could live in the man's shadow all he wanted, but he would never the first in Usagi's mind. 

But that was all right, because with Mamoru, she was happy. And he only wanted her to be happy.

So did Haruka. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she had taken an immediate dislike to Seiya's existence in general. He had jeopardised the happiness of a predestined future set in stone, for the smallest time. And he found it was enough to earn Haruka's eternal dislike. 

It was fine with him though. It was mutual.

He felt no immediate fondness for her either. 

Which was why he found the enjoyment from watching her move – just move – extremely strange. It was Haruka. And the only enjoyment to be gotten from Haruka was in teasing her to the point of breaking. At least, in the past it had been. And though he had not seen her in over four years, things would not have changed between them. He doubted things would ever change between them. They would never like each other. 

And Seiya found that was fine with him too. He felt no immediate need to earn her affection. He needed her about as much as she needed him.

And still he watched her dance. Because finally, it hit him that she could dance. Very well in fact. And that was the reason he was rooted on the spot. Not because it was Haruka, and she was dancing – honest-to-God moving her feet to the beat of a tune. Though that fact did seem to be an established factor. But because she _could dance. _

The Senshi was not merely swaying to the beat; thought there was some of that there. He could see styles to her form. Flamenco, freestyle, a little ballroom, even a hint of the forbidden Tanana. And it was free; all of it was so free. There were no constrictions to her movements; there were no reserves to her actions. She whirled and spun, her progress a state of abandon. Her hands following in an intricate pattern that he could not begin to understand. Her body twisting and arching. Her feet dancing.  Just dancing.

Winding and weaving. Always flowing. Never stopping completely.

She was quicksilver in the crowd, a flash of light in the dark and it seemed to Seiya that he had never really seen her alive until he watched her dance. Her very spirit was expressed in every spontaneous step she wove together. And though he was loathe admitting it, she made a picture.

She really did.

Had he not known who she was, his eyes would have been drawn to her anyway, because the way Haruka was moving was creating an unforgettable image, her footsteps etched into his mind. The dance was elegance, almost flawless in its grace, and pure in it's freedom. Haruka's twists and her turns flowed into the next, endlessly, endlessly, like an ocean of movement.

Simply put – Haruka looked sensual out there, moving alone among the mass of bodies. 

Sensual. 

Only '_sensual' and Haruka did not fit. And as a rule, Seiya never put them in a sentence together. _

Ever.

He had seen the tall Senshi move on the racetrack, he had seen her move on the battlefield – but never on the dance floor. And she could move. Seiya had never imagined her for any type suited to dancing; Haruka – to his mind – was far too uptight for that. Although, considering her relationship with Michiru, he supposed that there were some clues to a certain amount of wildness. 

But though Haruka could be ruthless, she was never untamed. Her emotions were far too pent up for that. It was one of the first things Seiya had noted about the tall blond. The passion he could sense simmering just below the surface, always contained, always chained. The Senshi of the Sky – of the wind constrained by her earthly confines.

Because wasn't wind by nature supposed to be free? Did Haruka even know what free was?

From the way she moved out there, as though freedom could only be found in the steps she stole, he doubted it. The passion was there too, Seiya saw it, recognised it for what it was. Her hips swayed with the beat, far too seductive to be Haruka, but there she was. All long legs and slender waist. Her neck was arched back, and for once Seiya was glad for her short hair, he did not want to miss her expression.

She smiled. She did not even realise she was smiling as she swayed and then turned, raising her arms seductively, cradling her palms over her head.

Would she be dancing with such abandon if she knew he was there watching from the shadow? Or any of the other Senshi? Or anyone she knew?

No.

Because Haruka wasn't free. Whichever way she wanted to look at it. She was constrained by her own inhibitions. Perversely then, Seiya wondered if she even knew the song currently playing, the song she was currently dancing so well with, was Seiya's newest single. He doubted it. The irony was tangible.

But really, he had no way of knowing.

The strains of the familiar song opened to the second course, and idly he listened to his own voice resound back to him. Almost detached. 

* Time now to spread your wings, to take to flight, the life endeavour. * 

Haruka, for all intense purposes was oblivious to the fact that it was Seiya serenading her to movement in a sense, because she danced and kept on dancing. 

And then Seiya was suddenly angry as the old resentment – long thought gone - welled up to the fore. She was dancing, and he was standing there, like some perverse Hentai, luring in the shadows. He could dance. And a damn sight better than her too. Only he wasn't because she _was._ Because she would see him, and then she would stalk away, or perhaps take him through the whole bloody nose routine – either way, the outcome was the same. Watching her caused that familiar urge to be in motion to surge within him. His feet were itching to move. And he had no way to dance as long as she was down there.

And then he stilled, blue eyes pinning the tall form who was still unaware she was being watched.

He felt his lips curve into a smirk, a delicious idea beginning to from in his mind. Dangerous, perilous, insane even, but altogether delectable. And he'd be able to kill two birds with one stone in the process.

* Aim for the burning sun. You'll be trapped inside…but you can still be free…If time will set you free. *

He moved deliberately, with the long sultry grace of a predator in full stalking mode. He knew it was a movement that Haruka would have recognised well, but she was not looking his way. Others were though, and Seiya let them look. He had his target. He would not be denied. At least, not the way he was going to play it.

The steps of the staircase disappeared beneath his feet, his eyes remained fixed on the Senshi. He knew he made a picture, and the he was even recognisable as a member of the former Threelights in his dark clothes and his long, long hair. And he didn't care.

He drew up behind her in the crowd, some parting before him because of the figure he cut. He was nearly twenty-one, and Seiya was well aware of how he looked. He used it to his advantage often enough.

Haruka's hands were high in the air, extended flowingly over her head, slender hands and small wrists inclined to form loose fists as she rocked her hips and head in time to the haunting melody. Against his better judgement, and maybe because he suddenly wanted to know what they felt like without the gloves of a Senshi covering them, Seiya reached out, reached up and spread his fingers, capturing those hands in his own, bringing them down to rest in the small of her back behind her. 

She froze.

"Shhh," he whispered, immediately soothing. "Don't look."

He kept his voice low and intense, knowing it sometimes produced an effective result on women. Of course this was Haruka, so naturally instead of relaxing, she tensed more. Despite the momentary panic that rose in Seiya at that, he still had to fight a smile. Trust Haruka to be difficult. To be different.

"Don't look," he said again. "You don't need to. Not for this."

That did it. Whatever else she was feeling and whatever other reasons she was dancing alone, in a crowded club, with an abandon he had never witnessed from her. Whatever those reasons, it seemed Haruka wanted the anonymity of that freedom.  For once, Seiya could understand the need for that.

For once he agreed with her.

_* But it's a long, long way to go…*_

Her felt her relax, slowly, and as the beat slowed around them, so did she. Her swaying became leisurely and comfortable, almost languid in its movement. Unable to resist, Seiya let his hands slide up her hips, to rest on her waist. He tightened his grip, allowing his hands to massage her skin through the fabric, knowing he was playing with fire, and half-afraid, half-daring she would turn. Affronted. 

Because he had the strangest feeling the experience would be worth it. Perhaps he would burn. Perhaps she would torch him alive, but for the moment, Seiya did not mind. There was the chance, just that chance, that the flame he felt, the same dampened flicker always in her, would ignite something else, something powerful. Something neither of them expected. 

So maybe playing with fire was worth it. Just for that.

_* Keep moving way up high, you see the light, it shines forever. *_

Greatly daring, he moved closer, allowing her to feel him against her. It did occur to him that Haruka did not dance with men, and that she had never danced with one. But Seiya did not care. The heat radiating from her form, created by the movement of dancing, was addictive. He was closer than was proper for two supposed strangers, but that was addictive too.

And Haruka was not objecting. And perhaps that was the most addictive thing of all.

When his lips brushed her neck boldly he expected her to pull away, in fact he was ready for it. He did not expect her to lean to his touch, tilt her head aside, inviting more gentle exploration. But he welcomed it anyway. His mouth was on her neck again before she had the chance to change her mind. He bit her tenderly and breathed her sandy hair as it brushed his lips. Under his touch, he felt Haruka quiver and the contact with her set waves of energy and heat coursing through him again 

And when she pressed back, moulding her slender frame to his, it was all he could do not to moan into her neck. He felt himself respond helplessly to the seduction of flesh against flesh, knowing she was doing the same.

But did she know? Did she know what she was doing to him? Did she know what she _could _do to him?

It was unthinkable. What they were doing, and it would have consequences but there and then, it was all that mattered to Seiya. The feel of Haruka pressed intimately against him, the scent of her skin, it was softer than he had always thought. And the beat around them was pulsing and strong. Welcoming more.

_* Sail through the crimson skies, the purest light, the light that sets you free…*_

He moved his arm lower, wrapping it around her waist. He was aware of the picture they must make, and Seiya was aware too that there would be consequences. Because the dance was setting something ablaze in him. 

Of course he knew what that was – desire. Plain and simple. She could dance, this Senshi, and she could match him, exceeded him and all his expectations when she did. 

And Seiya welcomed it. Even for a night, even for a moment. He welcomed that passion with open arms.

He wanted it. He wanted her.

With a low growl, Seiya's hand darted up to tilt her face aside, seeking her lips with his own. Belatedly he realised her eyes were closed and she still did not know who her partner was. Belatedly he realised that had they been open then everything would have ended in a single heartbeat. And that she was still Haruka Ten'ou – Senshi, protector to the Princess of the Moon, and he was still Seiya Kou, someone who had essentially been her enemy longer than he had been her almost-friend. And they were not just a pair of anonymous strangers dancing closer than was proper, in a dim crowded club full of likeminded strangers.

But her eyes were not open, and so Seiya kissed her.

His first kiss was fleeting, testing and tasting, his lips were there and then gone in momentary contact that was meant to entice and inflame. When she did not draw back Seiya came again, more confident, his lips working hers in a delightful rhythmic movement.

He wanted her to feel, like he was feeling.  

Haruka trembled under the pressure of Seiya's lips. But she let him deepen it, though he could feel her instinctive hesitation. He could taste her hesitance, not normally a natural gesture for her, and around it he could taste the faint tang of alcohol as well. Tequila perhaps. But she yielded to him, for the first and probably last time. She yielded, instants past hesitation that moved into an eternity for Seiya. 

He felt as though he could see into her thoughts when she did. Just once. Don't look, just once. Let the voices of rationality scream as they may, let them enumerate the transgressions, admonitions, self-derision as they would. Let them call out their warnings – too little.

Too late.

_* If time will set you free…*_

He felt her surrender and he savoured it for what it was. And as she did, and he felt, he knew it was not nearly enough, not for him, and not for her. And the knowledge startled Seiya. More than when he had caught sight of her below him, dancing, all fair twilight and cold steel with wild abandon. It startled him more than when she had not pulled away. It scared him too. He could admit it readily because he knew she felt the same.

It scared him, like Usagi had once scared him. The very possibility of possibility frightened him.

But Usagi had her Mamoru. And Haruka had her Michiru. 

And where did that leave him?__

He felt himself smile barely against her mouth, against her surrender. Not nearly enough to satisfy. Not for him. Not for her. But it would have to do. He closed his eyes as well then, and for a moment the world seemed to stop spinning, with only the thump of heart pressed against flesh, beating a tandem to the tempo of the music around them both.

Seiya pulled away.

_* Sail through the wind and rain tonight. You're free to fly tonight…*_

Haruka's eyes were still shut, her chest rising lightly and falling with every breath. The air was warm, she was burning, and panting did not help. Her cheeks were flushed, with either the contact or the heat; Seiya had no way of knowing. Perhaps it was a combination of them both. 

Unable to resist, he kissed her again, just because he could. And it was more forceful than before, more demanding. Seiya wanted her to yield, and he wanted her to fight. A tiny part of him even wanted her to open her eyes, to see him. Know that it was him who was moving with her so close, kissing her so intimately in the middle of a crowded room, together completely alone.

But she did not fight him and she did not open her eyes, she gave without hesitation and even though she was not fighting, he could still feel the fire. Of course, he guessed the alcohol in her system, however little, was helping.

And again, Seiya found he didn't care about that detail. 

Because she was…

Sensual. She was still sensual. And…

Woman. That was the word Seiya was searching for. Sensual with her slender curves and soft skin, delicate neck, long tapered fingers – fingers that were wrapped in his hair, threatening to tangle and pull with just the slightest hint of demand.

She was all woman. Haruka who dressed like a man, who fought willingly, who raced with the wind and could dance like a siren could sing. Her complete femininity assailed his senses. And it had always been there. Little things, like the way she would hold a glass, or seat herself in a chair. The bare scent of lavender and mint. She did not seek to hide it, not as such. It was more that the signs were left there for those who had the eyes to see.

Or those who wanted to look.

How many had actually bothered to look?

He did not know. And Seiya did not attempt to dissect to overpowering urge to pull this woman closer, to own her, mind, body and soul. Nor did he want to. In that instant, he just wanted to feel, because the feeling was good. The fire was better than the ice in her. The ice he knew, and the ice he was familiar with. Haruka had them both. 

Fire destroys; ice preserves. As much as he had wanted the fire - he had not wanted to go up in flames. He had wanted to be safe. Once. But Haruka's lips and her fire however caged were enough to make Seiya forgo his fear of the flame. Maybe her fire would consume him. But it would be a divine consumption. And maybe he'd rise after, like a phoenix from the flames, still unsated and still seeking more.

_* And you can still be free. If time will set you free. And go higher than the mountaintops. *_

Because it was not enough, once he had a taste; he knew it was not enough.

But it would have to do.

Seiya released her.

"You belong in the light," came his whisper. It was husky, and the need in it startled even him. "You should dance in the light. Not the dark."

It was all he could say. It was all he needed to say. Perhaps she believed him, but probably not. But he would not lie to her; there was no need for him to since she did not know it was him. So he did not. He told her what he saw, and he told her truth. 

"You're beautiful."

 By the time Haruka opened her eyes, the long silence and stillness shaking her out of her daze, Seiya was gone. Her temporary paramour had melted back into the crowd as he had intended to do from the onset of seeing her move, his voice fading on the last strains of the music that had surrounded and seduced her to dance in the dark.__

_* And go high, like the wind. Don't stop… And go high. *_

_* Free to fly tonight. *_

***OWARI***

      __

_Why Haruka? Why Seiya? Because I really adore these two characters. Apart or together. They rule._

_I really don't know about the title in this, it only came to me once the entire thing was finished – which happened in the space of a day. Really, I don't know where it came from. It was out of the blue, even for me. _

_But it's dedicated to the likes of Caster who I think is about the only Haruka/Seiya writer out there, and that's reason enough for me to be a fan. ^_^ _

_Oh, and the song. It's not Seiya's of course. It's Savage Garden's 'You Can Still Be Free' from their Affirmation CD, and a wonderful haunting ballad as well. But that's the wonder of artistic license. And it's recommended listening for this fic._

_As always, most of my art can be found on Side 7 and a few other fan sites on the web – but all my newer work, including Sailor Moon pieces can be found here…_

http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/agal.php?id=58728

_Yes, I know. Shameless plug, but we all do it sometime. And I'm only human right? (Though generally, that's debatable.) And I am going to do a pic of this fic. There's one sitting in my head, and it's driving me nuts… Really._

_Take care,_

_Orin._


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